diymy Chapter 70 Breakthrough Through the Bloodshed
Chapter 70 Breakthrough Through the Bloodshed
"Open the door!!"
Zhao Changying's roar was like a thunderclap from a clear sky.
At the rear of the caravan, two previously locked sidecars suddenly unhooked and slid apart. This was not an escape route, but a gate—a gate to unleash the beasts.
"Boom!"
The dull thud of horses' hooves echoed through the narrow valley, even drowning out the shouts of battle outside.
Twenty riders.
There were only twenty riders, but their imposing presence was like that of a thousand troops.
Both men and horses were clad in armor. The warhorses were covered in heavy cotton armor and tanned hides, leaving only their mouths, noses, and eyes exposed; the knights wore double-layered heavy armor and hideous iron masks, revealing only their murderous eyes. They did not carry lances, but instead uniformly carried extended sabers, the blades gleaming with a bloodthirsty coldness in the dim light.
This is the "special forces" that Lu Yan built with a lot of money, and it is also the sharpest scalpel in his hand.
"Follow me! Break through them!"
Zhao Changying took the lead, and his blue-maned horse neighed and charged out of the chariot formation like a black lightning bolt.
Instead of foolishly charging at the shield wagon formation head-on, they used their prediction of the terrain to draw a strange arc along the slightly gentle slope on one side of the valley.
That was the flank of the enemy's charging formation, and also a blind spot for the command center.
"What is that?!"
The White Lotus Sect leader, who was overseeing the battle, only saw a dark shadow flash past the corner of his eye. Before he could react, the heavy cavalry had already crashed into the crowd on the flank like a red-hot knife cutting into butter.
"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"
This is not a battle; it's a one-sided crushing defeat.
At this distance, the impact of heavy cavalry was unstoppable. Zhao Changying's saber, specially forged by Zhao Tie, was sharp and heavy. Using the momentum of his warhorse, he swiftly brought his saber down, cleaving a cultist wielding a spear in two, spear and all.
Blood splattered on Zhao Changying's iron mask, making him look like a demon crawling out of hell.
"Stop him! That's the government army's cavalry! Stop him now!"
The leader panicked. He hadn't expected that such a deadly weapon was hidden within this convoy, which resembled a tortoise shell.
But on this chaotic and crowded hillside, once the infantry lost their formation, they had no chance to resist when faced with the flanking attacks of heavy cavalry, except to be trampled and hacked to death.
The twenty riders moved as if they were in an empty field, with a clear objective—to take the banner of "Vacuum Homeland".
Fifty steps. Thirty steps. Ten steps.
Zhao Changying could even see the fear reflected in the leader's eyes, the despair after the collapse of faith.
"die!"
A loud shout.
Zhao Changying spurred his horse's flanks, causing it to leap into the air. He used the momentum to slash down. The leader raised his ghost-head saber to parry, but against overwhelming power and kinetic energy, parrying was a joke.
"Snap!"
The saber snapped in two. The cavalry saber slashed down, cutting from the left shoulder to the right rib.
The leader's upper body slowly slid down, and blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the command flag at his feet red.
Zhao Changying grabbed the blood-stained command flag, raised it high, and roared amidst the chaos of the army: "The rebel leader is dead! Those who surrender will not be killed!"
This roar, coupled with the severed banner, became the final straw that broke the camel's back.
"The Grand Master of Incense is dead! The Grand Master of Incense is dead!"
"The government troops are attacking!"
The believers who had just been shouting "invulnerable to swords and spears" and showing no fear of death now seemed to have had their spines removed. Fear spread like a plague. They dropped their weapons, pushed aside their companions, and even trampled over their own bodies, fleeing into the depths of the mountains, crying and screaming.
The originally well-organized charging formation collapsed instantly, turning into a rout that swept across the mountains and fields.
"All troops, launch an attack! Break out to the south!"
Lu Yan seized this fleeting opportunity.
The wagon formation transformed once more, from a defensive square into an offensive wedge formation. Musketeers sheathed their muskets and drew their sabers; pikemen charged forward, like a moving steel forest, mercilessly crushing everything in their path.
Fifteen minutes later.
The shouts of battle gradually subsided, leaving only the groans of wounded soldiers and the snorting of warhorses.
The rain started again, pattering down and washing away the blood on the ground, forming dark red streams.
Lu Yan rode his horse slowly across the battlefield. At this moment, there was no joy of victory on his face, only an almost indifferent calculation.
"Don't pursue a desperate enemy. Our mission is to transport grain, not to suppress bandits." Lu Yan stopped the guards who were blinded by rage and wanted to chase them into the woods.
Zhao Changying rode back, removed his mask, revealing a face covered in sweat and blood. He looked extremely excited, his eyes flashing with an alarming intensity.
"Brother! That was a great fight! That bastard couldn't even withstand one of my blades!"
Lu Yan handed him a handkerchief and pointed to the corpses scattered on the ground.
"Changying, this is business."
Lu Yan's voice was soft, yet cold. "Every lead bullet, every pound of gunpowder, represents real money. Now, it's time to recoup our investment."
He turned to look at Fan Fu, the butler who usually squinted, who was now leading a group of men, carrying sacks and lime powder, moving through the pile of corpses.
"Fan Fu, take your men and clean up the battlefield. Remember, only take the heads of the leaders and the 'hair-wearing thief.' Forget about the vagrants who were forced into this; they're worthless and take up space."
"Yes, sir!" Fan Fu's voice carried a chilling lightness. "These are all top-notch military merits! General Yang's side is in dire need of these!"
The scene that followed made the newly recruited guards feel nauseous.
"Click, click."
The sound of sharp blades slicing through neck bones echoed repeatedly. One after another, hideous heads were severed, skillfully sprinkled with lime, stuffed into sacks, and then thrown onto the specially cleared truck.
Lu Yan made no attempt to conceal this scene. He remained mounted on his horse, writing in his notebook:
"On the seventh day of the sixth lunar month, the ambush at Guichoujian took place. Ammunition costs amounted to approximately 150 taels of silver. Seven brothers were killed in action, twelve were seriously wounded, and the estimated compensation is 1,000 taels..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the large truck that was gradually filling with people.
"Four hundred and twenty-three heads were captured. According to the Ministry of War's reward, each head is worth thirty taels of silver, which is twelve thousand taels of silver. And this is only what is publicly known."
Lu Yan's lips curled up slightly, revealing a barely perceptible sneer. "If these heads were used to exchange for salt permits, or to exchange for official rank points with General Yang, their value would at least triple."
This deal was worthwhile.
Closing the notebook, Lu Yan let out a long sigh. The engineer's anxiety that had been weighing on his mind disappeared, replaced by a cold, ruthless confidence belonging to a warlord.
"Bring along the fallen brothers. Even if they are burned to ashes, bring them back to Jinan to be enshrined in the ancestral hall."
Lu Yan took one last look at this scene of carnage before turning his horse around.
"Let's go! To Yanzhou. With these 'gifts,' General Yang will treat us like gods of wealth."
The wheels rumbled heavily as they rolled over the mud mixed with blood. The large banner of the "Jinan Militia," riddled with bullet holes and bloodstains, fluttered in the damp, cold wind, more vivid and glaring than ever before.
The group's demeanor had changed. They were no longer bodyguards, no longer local militia. After witnessing bloodshed, killing people, and turning murder into a business, they finally bared their fangs.